


They Sail the Sky in Silence

by Obliquity



Series: Seventh Seal [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Or is that Planetgazing?, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obliquity/pseuds/Obliquity
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been attempting to view the Great Conjunction, but whoever's in charge of the weather really screwed up.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Seventh Seal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072958
Comments: 21
Kudos: 34





	They Sail the Sky in Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Christmas fluff, inspired by my own recent struggles with the British weather. Kindly beta-ed by the lovely Suvroc. <3
> 
> I'd originally planned to have my multi-chapter up by Christmas, but life happens. So here is a single-spoiler-but-not-really sequel to my as yet unposted unofficial sequel. I guess now I have a series.
> 
> Title is from Christmas Star, by John Williams.
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone.

* * *

“Bloody clouds,” said Crowley. “Why can’t they just rain already and get out of the way?”

“I don’t think it works like that,” said Aziraphale. “Besides, if it starts raining now, it’ll be far beneath the horizon by the time it stops. _Look_ at them.”

“I can’t look at anything else,” Crowley sighed, slumping down where he sat. “What kind of design work is this, anyway? What idiot thought… wow, a once in a human lifetime astronomical event? Let’s slap some cloud over it. The more, the better.”

“Inter-departmental communication _has_ always been a bit lacking,” Aziraphale allowed, and sipped at his wine. “Is it one of yours?”

“S’not a star, Angel,” said Crowley, leaning back against him. “S’a planet. Two planets. Never got anywhere near them. No-one did. This system was always Her project.”

Aziraphale put down his glass and wrapped an arm around Crowley’s shoulders. They didn’t feel the cold in the same way that humans did, but the warmth was nice, all the same.

“It’ll clear up,” Aziraphale said. “She wouldn’t allow it to go unseen altogether.”

They watched the sky from the blanket spread out on their gently sloping lawn, eyes on the horizon. The clouds drifted lazily past, not a care in the world.

A faint dot became briefly visible through the haze. Crowley tensed. Aziraphale opened his mouth… and then closed it again, as the dot vanished.

“We’re not going to see it, are we?” said Crowley, resting his head back against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We’re going to have to wait another eight hundred years.”

“Oh,” said the angel, “I do hope not.”

Weather aside, it had been technically possible to see the Great Conjunction for a few days, but so far, they had had no luck. Aziraphale had especially hoped that today might be the day. He adjusted his grip and the moonlight glinted off of his ring. He smiled.

“D’you know they can see the rings?” Crowley said.

“Hm?” said Aziraphale, who had slipped into fond remembrance.

“Humans. From here. They can see the rings. Not with their eyes, not directly. With telescopes.”

“Yes, I imagine they can,” said Aziraphale, and pressed a soft kiss to Crowley’s temple. “The pictures in your book had to come from somewhere.”

“Yeah, but those are the big telescopes,” said Crowley. “The massive, professional things up on mountains or floating in orbit. They can see the rings with a basic everyday thing from their windows. Some of the moons, even.”

“Can they see through clouds?” Aziraphale’s lip twitched.

“No,” sighed Crowley, and turned to nuzzle into the side of his neck. It tickled.

“We could always fly above them, of course,” said Aziraphale. “We’ve not stretched our wings in a while.”

“Tell that to the bedside lamp,” snorted Crowley. Aziraphale flushed.

“Yes, well,” he said, “it’s not precisely the same.”

He could feel the upward curl of Crowley’s lips against his neck.

“How long’ve we got?” he mumbled into the crook of it.

Aziraphale, who couldn’t reach his own watch at present, lifted Crowley’s own arm to glance at the monstrosity he wore there.

“About twenty minutes,” he said, and when he put it down, Crowley slid it around his middle and held tight. “Tired, dear?” he added.

“Comfy,” mumbled Crowley, and stayed right where he was.

Aziraphale smiled and tightened the circle of his arms, turning his eyes back to the horizon. He could focus for another twenty minutes, for something important. Crowley sighed again, a far more peaceful sound. Aziraphale’s own eyelids were starting to feel heavy, in spite of the early hour, but he was determined not to miss a thing. He very nearly did, an indeterminable time later, when he felt himself nodding.

He blinked upward… and breathed out a sigh of his own.

“ _Crowley_ ,” he said. “Crowley, _look_.”

Crowley turned his head sleepily to the side, and together they watched the Star of Bethlehem, the lone still point in a tempest of clouds, until it sank once more beneath them.

“Why’m I getting wet?” said Crowley, as they witnessed its failing attempts to resurface. Crowley reached out to touch the grass. “Did the hosepipe leak?”

The gentle patter of rain against the surface of the pond seeped into the edges of Aziraphale’s consciousness, and he glanced up to stare into the underside of his own wings. Old habits, it seemed, died hard.

He glanced back down, to find that Crowley had followed his upward gaze and was smiling up at them. He reached out a hand to brush it against Aziraphale’s feathers. The angel shuddered.

“Happy Anniversary, Angel,” murmured Crowley, and Aziraphale leaned down to brush a soft kiss against his lips.


End file.
